Orbs of Silver, Strands of Gold
by realityisunpleasant
Summary: The arrival of Hermione's big day sent her mind reminiscing back to the days shared with her first love.
1. Chapter 1

The bells chimed.

She drew a shaky breath as she slipped her lace-veiled arm under her father's. He gave her a reassuring smile in return, his eyes twinkling behind dark-rimmed spectacles.

As they walked down the aisle, a pair of forever-familiar pale, silver eyes locked onto hers. Her steps faltered slightly yet her gaze held steadily onto his, refusing to waver. Her chestnut orbs still determinedly locked onto his, her mind trailed back two summers past, upon that fateful afternoon that interwove their paths.

Rays of sunshine poured from the heavens that bright afternoon, sending trails of glitter across the lake. It was only a mere week away from graduation, the day the marked the end of their lives at Hogwarts. Before the war, Hermione was so sure of becoming an Auror. It was the most logical thing. But after witnessing the pain and suffering that accompanied the Second Wizarding War, she wasn't quite too sure if she can live the rest of her life bearing witness to more pain and suffering.

The sun was still gleaming high in the sky as Hermione gazed endlessly into the horizon. It was a rare and beautiful sight. Though the fall of Voldemort promised peace throughout the Wizarding world, it was far from what she felt in her heart. Night haunted her with vivacious nightmares; dark, angled figures thrashing at her till she wakes herself with her strangled screams. It was pointless telling Ron or Harry; she didn't wish for them to worry over something so trivial. Fearing of what awaited her if she slipped back into slumber, she decided on spending the rest of the night with the kitchen elves.

Yet she wasn't the only one.

Seated against the wall by the fireplace was the prince of Slytherin himself, clothed in a plain, dull shirt and matching pants. His attire wasn't altogether flattering yet it did not taint the beauty emitted by his gorgeous figure. His pale features dazzled as bright as stars; so angelic and lined with perfection that seemed almost immortal. Though his expression was clouded with pain, he still flashed her his signature smirk as he caught sight of her.

Ever since they were aware of one another's existence, she hated him. Hated him for being the prejudiced, self-righteous brat that he was, calling her a Mudblood, treating her like the scum of the earth, someone who was unworthy to even look at. Countless nights it drove her to tears; she never understood how someone so breathtakingly beautiful can be so cruel and evil. He probably doesn't even realize the pain his words brought, cutting deeper than any sword. She resented him for it. She tried so hard to not let his words have an effect on her but it was so unbearable to have that much hatred directed solely on her. Yet she understood, despite the torment he caused her. She understood that this was how he functioned. He was brought up on principles that was not unlike in other Pureblood families. But the cuts still stung. Yet the war had changed them all, even the Slytherin prince himself. He was the not the same Malfoy that taunted her years ago; pain now lingers over his features and his pale silver eyes had taken on a dullish grey. Yet she had to admit, although grudgingly, he was still radiant.

If she was heartless, she would be satisfied knowing the torments were finally reciprocated. But she was not. Hatred was slowly replaced by sympathy as she came to realize the tremendous amounts of pain that tortured him mercilessly. No one deserved that. Yet she knew even if life was to repeat itself, no one could save him. Fate itself had him bounded tightly by impenetrable chains and nothing could be done.

"Can't sleep either?" It was such a casual question, one that could be possibly exchanged between friends. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies either, not anymore. Not after what they both experienced. She jumped slightly at his question, having been so engrossed in her own thoughts. He noticed, his mouth curling into the ghost of a smirk. She walked over and leaned against the wall beside him.

"Getting close, are we now," his eyes sparkled mischievously with a hint of surprise. She rolled her eyes in response before lowering herself beside him.

"I'm surprised you're actually capable in holding a decent conversation," she inquired.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Granger." His eyes was void of colour.

"Oh how I'd enjoy a nice, heartfelt talk about Draco Malfoy," she replied, her tone filled with sarcasm. He said nothing, his eyes gazing despairingly into the emptiness. He seemed so devoid of emotion; his pale features lifeless. He was like a beautiful statue. So beautiful but so...dead.

He finally broke the silence with no more but a whisper.

"All my life, I strived to be this man my father wanted. Powerful, cunning, heartless." He spat out each adjective as if they were venom. "It seemed so sensible. I had everything but it was nothing. What use is power if there is no love? I hated the lot of you. You were showered with everything I could never have. I had no control over my life; it was decided before I was even born." He laughed bitterly. "I was destined to be a Deatheater, destined to fight against you, as your enemy. But I didn't want any of it." He shook his head. "My thoughts weren't my own; nothing belonged to me. Everything I am was what was expected of me. It was _not_ me." His last words echoed through her mind. Her heart aches for the boy beside her. He was so young but pained by so much. Out of impulse, she grabbed his hand and smiled comfortingly at him.

"The worst is behind us now; the past is past. The rest of your life is up to you." She smiled encouragingly. His eyes looked at her in surprise, most likely at her boldness. But they were quickly replaced by the forever-familiar mischief.

"You like holding my hand that much, don't you?" He smirked tauntingly, growing wider as blood rushed to her cheeks.

She drew back her hand as she glared at him. "Some things never change, do they?"

He stood up, the smirk still plastered on his face. He replied as he headed out the door.

"They never do, Granger. They never do."

She smiled at the memory. That night shared with Malfoy was one she held close to her heart. He had confided in her, of all people, the inner realms of his heart. Malfoy was never one to display weakness, let alone an entire life confession. They spoke little after that; usually in the form of polite exchanges in the hallways or light conversations before classes. Her thoughts were disturbed as footsteps approached her. She turned.

_Speak of the devil_.

His pale gold hair shone dazzling under the afternoon sun, his silver eyes sparked luminously. His nose was angled so perfectly with his porcelain contour. His frame had matured into that of a man's, though his personality was anything but. He was a sculptor's prize work of art, ever so beautiful, ever so perfect.. He noticed her staring and his mouth curved into a smirk. One significantly with less venom.

"Like what you see?"

She felt her cheeks warm and narrowed her eyes, attempting to mask her embarrassment. "It's hardly satisfactory."

He merely scoffed and sat down beside her. Watching the horizon, he asked, "Why aren't you inside with the others?"

Her eyes trailed into the distance, admiring the beauty. "How can I, when there is so much beauty out here?"

"I know I'm gorgeous but you didn't have to have to be so blunt," he smirked. She punched his arm playfully in return.

"I'm serious! Don't tell me you're not blown away. It's a shame people rarely notice this. We're all so focused on the little, unimportant things that we never notice the ones that truly matter..." She let her voice fade with the warm breeze.

He pondered at her words.

She continued, "If I could, I would freeze this moment and keep it forever." She smiled into the distance.

"Even with me in it?" His voice was barely a whisper. She turned to him, her heart hammering against her chest, his cold eyes boring into her warm ones. She suddenly realized how awfully close he was sitting yet still wished for what's left of the space between them to disappear.

"Even with you in it," she breathed. Fulfilling her wishes, he closed in on the space between them, placing his lips gently on hers. His lips were so warm and sweet, despite how cold he always looked. He placed his hands at the small of her waist, pulling her towards him. Her hands travelled to his chest, his strong and muscular frame evident underneath the light shirt he adorned. Every kiss made her thirst for more; each more passionate than the last. She clutched at him desperately, afraid that if she let go, he'd disappear in a moment's time. Her feelings overwhelmed her; how she never realized was past her. They pulled apart, much to her dismay. Breathing heavily, he rested his nose on hers, tracing his index over her flushed cheeks, his silver orbs memorizing every detail of her face. He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose and again between her eyes, finally resting once more on her cherry red lips.

"If your father saw this, what would he say?" she laughed lightly. They were now sitting against an old willow tree, its leaves guarding them from the glare of the sun. She leaned against his chest as he held her small frame, placing his chin on her shoulder and nuzzling against her neck. She turned to look at him. He tucked a loose strand behind her ear before answering.

"I don't bloody care."


	2. Chapter 1 Thoughts

Hello lovely readers!

I can't believe I actually managed one chapter... Nevertheless, I realized the first chapter may have stirred some confusion among you so I decided to spin this little segment to erase some of that said confusion. The first chapter is actually a memory within a memory. Sorry 'bout that... It just sort of happened haha...

In order to grasp this story with its entirety, I needed to make sure there is no confusion with the character of Malfoy. Hopefully, after reading this small segment will clear that up as well. He lived a life struggling to please, struggling to be someone his father wanted. He had no sense of self-identity and is still struggling to find himself in him. How I see it is that he lived a life on lies. Only this sole fact can help us feel sympathy towards him. We see Hermione understanding this side of Draco and that triggered her sympathetic feelings towards him. Yet he refuses those feelings. Despite always striving to be the epitome of perfection, which is reflected quite considerably in his appearance, he is still cocky and immature. And he refuses vulnerability. But he also harbours a soft side to him that causes him to be protective over his things (if you'd call it that). And after fighting in the war, fighting for something he believed all his life, only to finally realize in the face of death how foolish he'd always been, succumbing to things of no worth with no value whatsoever, did he finally break. I'm not saying he went through a mental breakdown but he understood the lie of a life he led. He so terribly wants to change and revert from his past. He struggles to change but he is still haunted by his past. It leaves him confused, vulnerable, weak, hopeless. All these is enough to torment him. But the war has also left him open-minded. He struggles to fight the evil in him and conquer it with good. We see this change when he sat in the kitchen with Hermione, where he was much kinder to her than in the past.

As of now, he still struggles with his identity. Who he really is. I will not be going into great detail of his character in this story as I only expect to write no more than ten chapters. In the first chapter, he was much softer and less of the annoying prat he was years ago. The transition from friendly acquaintances to kissers was a dramatic one but one needs to understand the amount of desperation in all of the characters. War left them thirsting for love, hungry for its touch. There is obviously more behind the lines than what is written. I just didn't want to leave anyone confused at these drastic change of events.

It is clear that Draco has changed and still is, as he is continuously breaking those walls of prejudice and hatred. The first kisses exchanged between our two leading characters is not one that completely reflects their feelings for one another; it's more symbolic, a clear vision of what the world should strive towards: one without prejudice, without hate, without pain. So when the cold Pureblood locked lips with a Muggle-born, those beliefs are shattered. It was that kiss that took them both a step towards love and away from hate; towards the future and away from the past. Those drastic changes are clear indications for what's to come. Although they fought a war to rid the world of those beliefs, it still begs the question of whether these new "ideas" (for lack of a better word) are going to morally accepted in the Wizarding society.

The last paragraph may seem confusing now but as the story unravels (even I am not sure how it will end), those new beliefs are challenged as Fate itself brings closer together these two characters.

So I hope that clears up some of the misunderstanding or confusion swerving around your heads. Please do not hesitate to ask any questions or provide feedback!

L


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